


Bloody Truth

by BeautyQueen_InTears



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Twilight, Banshee Holland, Family of Were-creatures instead of Vampires, Human Louis, Louis is sassier than Bella, M/M, Mates, Possessive Harry, Vampires, Were-Creatures, Werecat Zayn, Werewolf Harry, Werewolf Liam, Werewolf Shelley, Werewolves, smut in later chapters, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 09:18:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1935405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautyQueen_InTears/pseuds/BeautyQueen_InTears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis Tomlinson moves to a small village in the south-west of England, Harry Styles finds his mate and his family finds it hilarious. </p><p>Or... </p><p>Holland Roden plays Love Therapist AKA How Not To Attack Your Mate 101 & How Not To Stare At Your Mate Like You're Contemplating Murder When It's Actually Just Lust.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bloody Truth

 

                                           

 

                                                                                       ~*~

 

The road trip was short, my mum and step-dad listened to oldies while I sat in the backseat with my headphones contemplating my decision. I knew I could have spent the year with them in Rome, but my mum had practically given up everything for me since she was fifteen years old. Letting her have a year with her new husband was the least I could do. I, on the other hand, was on my way to my dad's house in Bibury; a small town, no _village_ , right out of a bloody movie, in the south-west of England, with a population of less than a thousand that my mother ran away from with me when I was only six months old. I had spent every summer there with my dad until I was twelve. Now, at seventeen, I had exiled myself there for the sake of my mothers happiness.

"Louis" my mum said for the thousandth time as we pulled into the driveway where my dad, Mark, was waiting for us. "Are you sure? You don't have to."

“It's okay." I lied. “I.. It might be fun. Maybe I'll make some new friends, get somebody pregnant...”

She laughed, almost too loudly; we both knew _that_ would never happen. “Alright.” she sighed. “But you know you're welcome to come with us now, or later if you want to.”

"Yes, mum, I know. I'll miss you, but I'll be fine. I promise. Packed a years supply of vodka."

She tisked again, wrapping her arms around me. "I'll miss you too baby, and I know you will." she said, tears streaming down her face now.

We hugged each other tightly for a few minutes. “I love you, Mum."

Then she was gone and I was left standing in the driveway as my dad carted my two suitcases into the house after giving me an awkward hug -not bad awkward, just... 'I don't see you often and now you're going to be living with me.' awkward.

"I missed you, Louis," he said as a greeting, then “How's your mother?” when we reached my room. It was small and cozy and it would feel more like mine once I had time to go shopping and could decorate it to my liking. Needs more red... and blue.

“Mum's good, David's good _for_ her.”

“Glad to hear it.” he grunted, "I found you a car" he announced a second later, changing the subject.

“Erm...”

"It's a 1960 Fiat. It's small but it'll get you where you need to go. Do you remember Joshua Howell for the next town over?”

"No... not really. 1960? Dad..."

"He's an old friend. Sold it to me, and his son, Dan, fixed it up for you and everything.”

Dan, now him I remembered. We played together as kids, catching frogs and showing up covered in mud. I may have also shaved his eyebrows off when we were seven but that was a story for another time.

“I... I know absolutely piss-all about cars, dad. If it breaks down I won't-”

"It runs great, Lou. And I'm sure Dan will be more than willing to help if anything happens to go wrong.”

“Alright. I'll have to thank him for fixing it up. And... thank you, dad. You didn't have to-”

“Hey. None of that. It's a gift.”  
  
“I really appreciate it.” I smiled, hugging him again for good measure.

  
~*~  


After I finished unpacking, I ventured downstairs in search of food, and hopefully a look at my new - _to me_ \- car. The house was small, more like a cottage really, but it was familiar and I felt comfortable here.

After fixing myself a turkey and lettuce sandwich I wandered over to the window while I ate – I always ate standing up, it was a weird habit I had never been able to break- there, sitting in the driveway was my car. It was small, and the powder blue paint was chipped a little, but to my surprise, I loved it.

I made a mental note to thank my dad again, it was perfect for me.

That night as I lied in the slightly scratchy smelling sheets of my bed, I finally let a few tears fall. I wasn't sad, exactly. Just... homesick. Sure I had spent a week or two here every summer as a kid, but the thought that I would be here for almost a year, that I would be going to school, not just visiting, but having a new life, made me feel melancholy. Once I cried a bit, I felt a little better and began to think about what school would be like come morning.

I'd had the choice of either an all boys school that was sort of close by, or an all inclusive that was an hour and a half's bus ride -car ride now thank god- I had chosen the all inclusive. I knew I would not do well with all boys. I was small, kind of (a lot) nerdy, with glasses and it would be a golden opportunity to be bullied. The school I would be going to had a total over eight-hundred and thirty-seven, now thirty-eight students. At least I had a chance of making friends there.

But for the first few weeks, I knew I'd be a curiosity. That some people would be nosey and ask a thousand questions, if I could live through that, and not attract the attention of the school bully – let's face it every school had a school bully – then maybe I could learn to be somewhat happy here, at least until my mum came back or until I went 'round the bend.

~*~  
  
The next morning I stared at myself in the mirror as I got ready for my first day at my new school. I was slightly miserable because I'd had to wake up at 5am, something I would be doing every morning from now on, so I'd have time to shower and ready myself before making the hour-and-a-half drive to the school. I chose a pair of my favourite skinny jeans and too-big grey knitted jumper, only fussing with my hair for a few moments, mostly because it was hopelessly limp and I wasn't in the mood for product this morning. I threw a beanie on instead.

Breakfast was quiet, my dad had left earlier – he was a cop and down at the police station more often than not. He left me a note though, wishing me luck.

I didn't want to be too early, but I was growing restless so I grabbed my coat -I was sure my giant jumper would be warm enough, but just in case.

I locked up before darting to my car, it was raining slightly though not enough to soak me. Once inside the car, I looked for a decent radio station before pulling out of the driveway.

I didn't have an easy time finding the school but after driving around in circles for twenty minutes I finally found it and was by then tempted to just go home. I was ten minutes late; a great start to my first day.

Inside it was slightly warmer than comfortable though I supposed I shouldn't complain. I walked around a bit until I found the office, where a sharp featured blonde woman was sitting behind the desk typing away like her life depended on it. Her head snapped up when I cleared my throat. “Yes, dear? Can I help you?”

"Err... I'm Louis Tomlinson. I'm new.”

"Oh yes!" she said, rooting around the endless stacks of paper before finally handing me some papers. "Here's your schedule, and a map of our school."

I smiled and thanked her before scuttling down the hall – I'm so so late.

I was ready to hyperventilate by the time I reached my first class

It wasn't bad, if not a little boring. The teacher had one of those voices that lulled and I was almost asleep by the time the bell rang.

As I stood, a blonde boy with braces and a goofy smile approached me. “You're Louis?”

He was Irish then. “Yeah. Yourself?” I asked with a smile, I hoped I'd found a friend. He looked nice enough.

"Niall Horan. Where's your next class?" he asked.

I checked my schedule. "Maths, with Mrs. French.” Huh. That was odd.

“Excellent! That's mine too! C'mon. I'll lead the way.”

I smiled and followed the happy-go-lucky boy. “Thanks mate."

"So, where are you from?" he asked.

"Doncaster."

"S'quite a bit bigger than Bibury, I live there as well"

"Yeah. I miss it, but I sort of like the quietness of the village."

“Nothing much happens, as it's surrounded by moors” he agreed, then added, “and if it does your da is on it like white on rice."

I blushed, yeah. Being known as the cop's kid was going to be a blast.

“Ah! 'ere we are!”

The rest of the rest of the morning went much the same, as it turned out, Niall and I shared quite a few classes, so that helped. A few students were brave enough to introduce themselves and ask questions, but most just seemed to stare. Surely they got new kids here often enough?

At lunch, Niall dragged me to a table full of his friends, whom he introduced me to.

I was in the middle of snarfing down my turkey sandwich when _they_ walked in. Five of them. I knew right away that there was something... different, about them. They seemed like a popular clique from Mean Girls or Clueless; all beautiful, all dressed impeccably well. I wondered for a moment if they were friends or siblings, though they looked nothing alike. Two girls, one, a beautiful brunette with hawk-like features that would make anyone else homely but only seemed to enhance her beauty, the other, a tiny ginger, whom I could tell was full of fire and sass just by the way she held herself. Then, there were three boys. A tall, muscled boy, who looked older than the others, with short brown hair and a face like a puppy. Another, who just happened to be seated in the puppy faced boy's lap, was smaller, tanner, with jet black hair and a face sculpted by the God's; he reminded me of a panther. The one my eyes landed on last, was.... _wow_. He was tall, somewhat lanky, with a mass of wild curls atop his head and ivory skin.

"Who... Niall, who are they?"

When he looked up to see who I meant, the curly one looked at him. He looked at Niall for a second, then his eyes were on me.

He looked away half a second later, but the eye contact was enough to make me blush.

Niall didn't answer but the girl next to him... Barbra? Did. “That's Harry Styles, Liam Payne, Zayn Malik, Shelley Hennig and Holland Roden.”

I side-eyed the curly one, the beautiful one..., who was now smirking at something one of the girls was saying. A flash of jealousy curled up my spine, shocking me. I didn't even know him, yet I couldn't help but wonder if the brunette girl was his girlfriend.

"They are... pretty." I cleared my throat.

"Aren't they? Liam and Zayn are together, as in dating, and living together, Holland, the ginger, and Shelley are as well.”

How strange.

“They're foster kids. Mr. and Mrs. Black took them in."

"Aren't they... too old to be foster children?"

“Now? Yeah. But Harry and Holland have been with them since they were like seven. I'm not sure about the others, troubled youths probably.” The moment she uttered those words, I saw the brunette girl, Shelley, I assumed, stand up, knocking her chair over noisily. She looked our way, as if she'd heard what Barbra had said, that was impossible, right? They were all the way across the room. The ginger snatched her arm, yanking her back until she righted her chair and sat back down again.

Curly glared at our table and I looked away again. “That's... really good of them, you know? I think I'd like to do that some day.”

“I guess.” Barbra sighed, forking a piece of fruit and shovelling it into her mouth.

"So... have they always lived around here...?" I asked.

"Nope. They moved to Bibury about three years ago from London.”

“Oh.” I said, letting it drop.

I looked back at them once more. And once more curly looked back at me.

"Harry, is he the one with the curly hair?" I asked, glancing at him again from the corner of my eye. He was still looking at me, but now his expression held something I couldn't name.

"Yes! He's freaking gorgeous. But... It seems none of us are good enough for him, he hasn't dated anyone since he's been here. Unless he has a girlfriend back in London or something."

I tried not to smile. And didn't mention that maybe, just maybe, curly... er... Harry didn't fancy girls. That may have been wishful thinking on my part.

Twenty minutes later Niall and I entered biology, where we parted ways because I was new and he obviously already had a partner. As I looked around, I realized all of the table were full, except one. I bit my lip when I realized who was sitting at the half empty table. I'd recognize those curls anywhere, sad as that was.  
  
I introduced myself to the teacher and sure enough he directed me to the back of the class, to the seat next to Harry. When I reached the table, Harry went rigid, his eyes widening almost comically... or it would have been, if he wasn't looking at me like I'd just slammed a prison door in his face. I felt my own face heat up as I sat down and tried not to look at him again. Mr. Sawyer asked Niall to pass out the papers and when he got to our table he bumped his hip into my arm and smiled as he put the papers down. I smiled back, thankful for the small comfort he offered. Suddenly a low rumbling filled the air, it sounded like... a growl, like an animal and it confused me. I looked up at Niall to see if he'd heard it too but the expression of terror on his face stopped me cold. He was looking at Harry, his hand hanging mid air where it was about to pat my shoulder. I turned to look at the other boy who was staring at Niall as if he might kill him. Mr. Sawyer came by a moment later and asked if there was a problem, Niall shook his head while Harry continued to stare at him murderously. After that the class seemed to go by slowly, each second almost unbearably uncomfortable as I felt his eyes burning holes into the side of my face.

When the bell rang, Harry tore from his seat like a wild thing, like he couldn't get away fast enough.  
  
Why was he so... mean? He didn't even know me goddamn it! My eyes starting stinging but I ignored it. He wasn't going to get the best of me, whatever his problem was. I stood, gathering my things. I wanted to go home. I grabbed my coat and shoved my way through the plethora of students and out into the parking lot. I heard a girl talking loudly and someone hissing back in answer. I stopped in my tracks when I realized it was the ginger girl.

“...your mate?!” she squealed. Sounding amused, smug and slightly annoyed. I had no idea what they were talking about and I didn't care. I started walking again. The squealing and the hissing stopped as I passed.

“Him?” I heard her whisper with a little laugh. I was at the end of my rope and I almost, almost spun around and marched back to demand what Harry's problem was and demand to know why they were talking about me, but I would no doubt only burst into tears and that would only humiliate me further. Unfortunately, I tended to cry when I was pissed off or scared; an embarrassing issue I wasn't about to share with the world or Harry Styles thank you very bloody much. I was almost to my car when I tripped over nothing, the toe of my shoe catching on the pavement, sending me face first toward the unforgiving surface. Suddenly, something wrapped around my left elbow, stopping my body from hitting the ground. I looked up to find Harry Styles at my side, his expression almost exasperated. I pursed my lips until I was sure it looked like I was about to swallow my chin.

“Thank you.” I said in a tight voice, nodding at him once before yanking my arm away and hurrying to my car.

I swear I heard the redhead snickering as I slammed the door.

~*~

That night I angrily chopped veggies for the stir fry I made for supper, cutting things into teeny tiny pieces seemed to make me feel better, go figure.

Later, as I lied in bed I thought about Harry, and wondered just what exactly his problem with me was. And if I dreamed of his body pressed to mine, well, no one had to know.

~*~  
  
A single longing howl echoed across the moors. And a lone wolf stood atop a hill, looking down at the Tomlinson household.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Is it worth continuing?


End file.
